


Bedside Vigil

by Shunters



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Bedside Vigils, Brief mentions of murder, Established Relationship, Hospitals, Introspection, M/M, Past Violence, Pre-Season/Series 01, Stream of Consciousness, brief mention of sex offenders, who murdoc has killed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:14:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28939797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shunters/pseuds/Shunters
Summary: Murdoc sneaks into a hospital room to keep watch over his injured boyfriend, quietly plotting to hunt down whoever hurt Angus.(Set in an AU where MacDoc met and became an established relationship before season 1)
Relationships: Angus MacGyver/Murdoc (MacGyver TV 2016)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 51
Collections: Bad Things Happen





	Bedside Vigil

**Author's Note:**

> This is for the 'bedside vigil' square of my Bad Things Happen Bingo card. I was originally gonna write something with Jack sitting vigil over Mac but Murdoc said insisted I wrote about him instead. This also may or may not evolve into a larger AU, depending on where my muse is at once I finish my over fic.
> 
> To those of you reading my multi-chapter MacDoc fic, I'm absolutely still working on that! I'm about 2.5k into what is shaping up to be the longest and angstiest chapter so far. But I had to write this to keep my muse going whilst I worked out some issues with the OG plan for the chapter.

Murdoc hovered in the corner of the room, draped in shadows. With his all-black outfit and just the right level of stooping, he was all but invisible to anyone glancing through the door. Which was exactly how he wanted it. He had a visitors’ pass, and he could easily manipulate or threaten a nurse into letting him stay overnight, but, frankly, he couldn’t be bothered to argue right now. He couldn’t even bring himself to leave the room.

Because, laid out before him, white as death and covered in an alarming number of bandages… was his partner. Angus MacGyver.

As unlikely as it was for a sociopath such as he, Murdoc had found love. Not the intense, acidic kind he’d held for Amber. No. This was the true, _pure_ kind which was so very hard to find, and even harder to keep.

And he’d found it in such an unlikely place, too.

Angus MacGyver was too good for Murdoc, he truly was. Murdoc _knew_ that, he _accepted it_. And because Angus, and his love, was too good for him, Murdoc treasured it, _guarded_ it in a way that he’d only ever done before with his son. Angus MacGyver was his _family_.

And someone had _hurt_ that family.

_Car_ _accident_ , the chart said. But Murdoc was no stranger to injuries, he _knew_ what an accident looked like. And he knew what a _beating_ looked like.

He knew what knife wounds looked like too. _Abdominal laceration_ , that was what the chart called it. Murdoc knew better. The damage described in the notes, the damage he’d _seen_ under Angus’ bandages, that didn’t come from any car accident.

By all rights, Murdoc shouldn’t have even been in the hospital room. Shouldn’t even know about Angus’ injuries until the following day. Murdoc had never been very good at doing what he was told, though. So, when he got worried about his dear Boyscout, he had fired off a definitely-not-panicked text to Jack. Before promptly ignoring the suggestion of calming down and using FindMyFriend to trace Angus’ phone instead.

Which lead him here. Lurking in the corner, rage growling in his chest like a living beast as he stood guard over what was _his_.

* * *

It was hours before a nurse came in to check up on Angus. Murdoc had migrated into the chair by Angus’ bed some time ago, eyes never straying far from Angus’ fragile body. His hand rested carefully over Angus’ overturned one, Murdoc’s thumb extended just enough to feel the steady pulse on Angus’ wrist, his black nail standing out in sharp relief to Angus’ pale skin. Even as the nurse came in, Murdoc didn’t visibly shift his attention from his partner (in actuality, half his focus was on the nurse, his body coiled like a spring, ready for action at the slightest hint of danger). The nurse, in turn, didn’t pay him any mind.

Murdoc figured he must have that look about him. The one he’d seen so many times in the past but never truly _understood_ before having Cassian (and, years later, meeting Angus). It was a look of grief and terror, of worry and rage and could-haves and should-haves. A look of guilt. Disbelief. Love. _If I blink, you’ll disappear_.

He should never have gone on that stupid business trip.

If only he’d ignored the urge, gone after a _local_ sex offender instead of killing the one offered to him by the Organisation. It wasn’t like he needed their money anymore.

Maybe then, if he’d stayed, Murdoc would have been there to stop whatever- _whoever_ \- had hurt his dear Angus.

Maybe Angus would be at home, sleeping peaceful in bed beside Murdoc, not _unconscious_ in the hospital after _hours and hours_ of surgery.

Guilt. Such a useless emotion. One Murdoc had avoided feeling for the majority of his life. Trust the Boyscout to make a sociopath feel _guilty_.

* * *

Murdoc fell into the waking world with a muffled gasp, jolting upright in his chair and scanning the room for danger before he even registered what had happened. Somehow, despite his tumultuous emotions and solid conviction to keep watch, he’d fallen asleep in the uncomfortable hospital chair.

His eyes darted back to Angus’ prone form, heart beating painfully against his sternum as irrational concerns fought to sink their claws into him.

The pressure in his chest eased as he took in the rhythmic rise and fall of Angus’ chest. A quick glance at the monitors showed improved vital signs, a good indication that the Boyscout likely wouldn’t be dying on him any time soon. His pulse was strong beneath Murdoc’s gun calloused fingers.

Murdoc checked his watch. Five o'clock, he had been at the hospital for seven hours now. Morning visitation would be starting in just a few short hours. No doubt Jack would be coming by, possibly with Bozer or Nicky. It would be smart of him to leave before anyone else arrived, seeing as how he wasn’t technically supposed to know where Angus was just yet.

But he wouldn’t leave. Not until Angus woke up. And only if _Angus_ asked him to go.

* * *

At eight, the nurse returned, rousing Murdoc from where he’d been not-quite-napping against Angus’ bed. He raised his head from where it rested by Angus’ arm, directing his attention to the nurse as they asked if he needed anything. Murdoc politely declined.

He watched the nurse from his peripheral vision as they went about their duties, quietly telling him what they were doing as they went.

Fiddling with the IV for a final time, they commented, “he should be waking up soon. When he does, the doctors will wanna check him out, so you’ll need to hit the call button when he wakes up, okay?”

With Murdoc’s nod, the cheerful nurse was gone.

Murdoc’s heart clenched oddly at the revelation that his dear Boyscout would be waking soon.

* * *

One hour, twenty-six minutes later, Murdoc’s loitering paid off as he caught the first signs of his partner waking. Angus’ eyes fluttered, his fingers twitching in Murdoc’s grasp, and Murdoc stood, leaning over his Boyscout.

“Angus?”

The Boyscout blinked blearily in response, brow furrowing adorably as he visibly tried to blink the world into focus. “M’rdoc?” he slurred.

Murdoc couldn’t have suppressed his grin if he tried. “Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he teased gently, “welcome back to the land of the living.”

“What’re you doin’ here?” Angus asked as Murdoc reached to press the call button.

Murdoc helped Angus sip water carefully from the straw of a cup. “I traced your phone after you didn’t reply to my text about Cassian.”

“You what?”

Murdoc shrugged. “You never ignore a message from me for longer than two days,” he explained, gesturing with the cup still in his hand, “not when it’s regarding Cassian. I was worried.”

“Ah, Murdoc, I’m sorry,” Angus apologised, guilt layering his sleepy voice. “I saw the notification, but I was so busy with work, I-”

Oh, his dear Angus, so confident in his abilities but so lacking when it came to his self-worth. Murdoc shook his head.

“You don’t have to apologise, Angus, I don’t mind waiting to hear from you. I just wanted to make sure you were alright,” Murdoc tried to reassure, smiling gently at his partner.

Whatever Angus had been about to say was cut off as a doctor entered the room, followed closely by the familiar nurse.

* * *

Upon finishing the exams, the doctor pronounced that Angus, barring complications, would be discharged after three days with strict instructions to rest. As the doctor and nurse left, Murdoc finally brought up what had been bothering him since he first set eyes on Angus’ injuries.

“What really happened, Angus?” he asked, levelling a serious look at his partner, digging painted nails into his hands as he laced his fingers together. He was unspeakably angry, but not with Angus.

“What d’you mean?”

“Those injuries weren’t from any car crash. Not unless your car suddenly grew hands and decided to beat you.” Murdoc shifted to the edge of his seat, still and intense in a way he tried so hard not to be in front of Angus. “If someone hurt you, if they’re _threatening_ you-”

“What? No! Murdoc, that wasn’t-”

“Please, Angus. Don’t lie to me. Not now, not about this.”

“Murdoc, I promise, no one is threatening me.”

Murdoc couldn’t stop the frustrated sigh that escaped his clenched jaw. “You’re not an idiot, Angus. And neither am I. The only reason you wouldn’t be honest about someone attacking you is if you were being threatened in someway, so just tell me who it is and I’ll take care of it.”

“Murdoc, you _have_ to trust me on this,” Angus stared into his eyes, and Murdoc watched the beautiful blue irises carefully- cloudy with drugs and pain as they were- to check for lies. Or fear. “I can’t tell you what happened,” Angus sounded truly _pained_ by the situation, in a way which made Murdoc feel nothing but _guilt_ at the thought of being the cause. “I _wish_ that I could, Murdoc, but I can’t. No one’s threatening me, no one’s watching me. But I still can’t tell you.”

Murdoc’s heart melted, with relief or love or something else entirely, he wasn’t sure. But staring into the wide, earnest eyes of Angus MacGyver, Murdoc was utterly powerless. He could no more press the issue than he could leave the life they had built together.

Murdoc nodded. “I believe you, Love. But if someone hurt you and got away with it-”

Angus’ thumb brushed against his bottom lip, silencing him gently as the calloused digit traced a calming path across Murdoc’s jaw.

“If someone hurt me, attacked me like you said, _if_ that happened,” Angus quirked a tired smirk as he sunk back into his pillows. “They wouldn’t have gotten away with it.”

Finally, with that not-quite-confirmation, the tight ball of _worry-rage-guilt_ in Murdoc’s chest began to untangle itself. His Boyscout would be alright.

They both would.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! My BTHB card can be found [here](https://disasterinspace.tumblr.com/post/640945667141943296/here-is-your-card-for-bad-things-happen-bingo), feel free to drop me a request in the comments or on Tumblr. 
> 
> I have Internet cookies for everyone who drops me a kudos &/or a comment


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